Misconceptions
by Cynlee
Summary: It all starts with a simple question of Where do Babies come from?
1. Chapter 1

"... And that is where babies come from," Splinter finished. "Do you have any more questions?"

Eight-year-old Michelangelo screwed up his face in confused thought. _Did he_ have any more questions? Sure! LOTS of them! But he wasn't convinced that he would get an answer that made sense. Take this for example...

"We--ell," he dragged out, and Splinter, carefully keeping his face straight (though releasing a frustrated sigh inwardly; he had hoped that the inquisitive turtle would give it up and go play!), waited patiently for the inevitable. "You see... I think I do, but I don't know what they are at the moment."

Splinter gratefully thanked his ancestors, and nodded.

"Very well, my son. When you know what they are, please do not hesitate to ask me."

Mikey bowed to his Sensei, then raced from the living room in search of his brothers.

Ten minutes later...

"Mikey, I said shut up!" Raph growled, the anger building and threatening his playing card tower competition with Leo. "I been workin' on this for ages, and I don't care where babies come from! 'sides, it sounds like a fairy tale ta me!"

"But it is cool!" Mikey insisted from the other side of the bedroom, where he had been warned under pain of death to remain-- NO one wanted him to accidentally collapse their playing card towers at this late stage of the challenge. So far it was a draw; each tower was tall, proud, and sturdy, not to mention intricate-- or as intricate as two eight-year-old turtles could make them! "I mean, all that stuff he said. 'Course, some of it I didn't understand. Like the actual part were the father--"

"MIKEY!" Leo chimed in, looking ill; his hand, about to add the next level to his tower, wavered as he felt sick from the talk. "That sounds gross! Stop it at once!"

"But Leo--"

" 'But Leo' nothing! This is worse than when you tried to give us a detailed description of when Donnie threw up all over the bathroom!"

"Yeah, and **you **ended up making yourself sick, and **we **got to watch YOU barf up in person," Raph finished the story and his next level. "Ha! I'm ahead of you, Leo!"

Mikey, frustrated, sat on his bed, legs dangling as he swung them back and forth while leaning forward, gripping the edge of the bunk with his hands.

"The thing is, HOW does the father know that the mother is going to be ready to have a baby?"

"MIKEY!" Two voices, loud and promising pain, echoed in the room.

Don, lying on his own bed reading, put his book down and looked across the space to his brother's own top bunk.

"He doesn't know, Mike," Don answered him as if he knew. "He doesn't even really care. All he wants to do is mate."

Now the two older turtles turned their angry attention upon their brainy brother.

"Donnie! I'm gonna tell Splinter what you said!" Leo, shocked, warned him.

"Leo, Splinter is the one to use the word," Don calmly replied. " 'Mate' is not a dirty word. Otherwise, Splinter wouldn't never let us play 'chess'."

Leo thought about that for a moment.

"You're right," he agreed-- then he froze in horror. "EWWW! When we say 'Checkmate'-- does that mean-- that the king is gonna-- is gonna--"

"Maybe that's where all them little pawns comes from," Raph, eyes lighting up, commented.

Don sighing in exasperation, favored his elder brothers with a withering stare-- a very good trick for an eight-year-old!

"This is why you messed up that test on multiple-meaning words, Leonardo," he wisely pointed out with a superior tone. " 'mate' has many meanings. It can mean to match, or to be someone's friend, or to get together to make babies--"

"EWWW!" Leo felt unclean-- how could he ever use that word again? He would never be able to play chess ever again and he loved chess and now he would lose 'cause he will NEVER in a million billion years be able to say "checkMATE" 'cause--"

"Anyways," Mike, not being able to stand being ignored, brought the conversation back to where he wanted it to be, "what I'm wondering is, will it be a boy or a girl?"

At these words, the three others froze in confusion-- Raph's hand, about to place yet another card, hovered over the tower like a helicopter; Leo's eyes looked questions at everyone except Mikey; Donatello slowly sat up, an expression of puzzlement crossing his features.

"What?" he said, addressing Mikey.

Mikey, lost in thought, realized that his brothers were now staring at him. He sat up a little taller, grinning.

"The baby-- is it gonna be a boy or a girl?"

Dead silence for two, maybe three minutes.

"Wha-- what baby are you talkin' about?" Raph finally asked. One of them had to, and Raph was tired of waiting for someone to ask it.

"The one Splinter is gonna have," Mikey announced, pleased that he had information none of them had, not even the mighty Donatello! "Splinter is gonna have one, and I wonder if it'll be a boy or a girl! Personally, I'd like a sister. We gots enough brothers..."

"Mikey," Don finally found his voice. "Splinter can't have a baby. He's a male. Males don't have babies!"

"Seahorsie males do," Mike, distracted from his happy dream of playing with his new sister, teaching her the best ways of annoying Raph, defended. "I saw it on TV!"

"Well, yeah, but the mother seahorse--" Don tried to explain, but Mikey cut him off with a dismissive gesture.

"You're wrong, Mr. Hamato Donatello Brainac! I know! Splinter is gonna have a baby 'cause I asked him where babies come from and he told me, and I figured it out!"

Three confused turtles exchanged glances.

"Mikey, it is impossible--" Don tried once again, but Leo cut him off.

"Mikey, what makes you think Splinter is gonna have a baby?"

"Leo!" Don protested, but Leo warned him with a "be quiet, you KNOW Mikey" look, then turned back to the youngest.

"Well! See, he said that the mommy gets sick in the mornings," Mikey eagerly explained. "I saw it on one of his shows we was watching, how the one person was sick in the morning, and he said it was called 'morning sickness', and it means that she's having a baby, and Splinter's been sick for several mornings now..."

"That's cause he always gets a little sick this time of year," Don pointed out. "Especially in the mornings. It's the weather changes."

"AND then the person on the show wanted to eat strange things even though she'd been sick, and he said it was called a 'craving', when you want something to eat that is weird, like pickles and ice cream."

"What's wrong with pickles and ice cream?" Raph muttered to Leo, but his brother shook his head in warning, keeping his attention on Mikey.

"So?"

"Well, Splinter has been eating weird stuff lately," Mikey pointed out, rather shocked that his brothers had not noticed this about their own father. "All that raw fish and green mustard."

"Mikey, that's sashimi," Don tried again. "He got lucky enough to get really really fresh fish and he made sashimi-- lots of people in Japan eat it."

"But alla time? In the morning? So much of it?"

"Lots of people eat fish in the morning for breakfast, and 'sides, it was good," Don defended. "You ate enough of it anyway! And you can't save it for long, so you have to eat it up, otherwise it goes bad."

Michelangelo merely made a face at his brother's know-it-all interruptions. He wasn't the only one around here who could figure stuff out!

"AND the woman was all cranky," he concluded, doggedly ignoring Donatello. "And Splinter said that people having babies get cranky, and I asked him if that meant that Raph was gonna have a baby, and--"

"HEY!"

"And then I asked him where the babies come from, and kept asking him, and then **he **got cranky-- and then he took a deep breath and told me, and that is how I figured it out! All except that part where the male puts his--"

"MICHELANGELO!" Leo nearly screamed. This was all too much; too much! They all had learned the basics about the birds and the bees, when out with Splinter on those rare occasions when they could hide in the park and observe Nature as part of their lessons. They watched nature shows on the TV and even read some (very boring) books about it. But what Mikey was saying was...

"Mikey," Leo tried carefully. "Splinter isn't a 'mommy', you know-- he's a 'daddy'. And 'daddies' do NOT have babies--"

But Mikey was not to be dissuaded. He leapt down from his bunk, and stood there, glaring at his brothers.

"Splinter is gonna have a baby, and that is that! I know! And you're all mad 'cause I figured it out first!"

And he slammed out of the room, collapsing two huge towers of cards in the process, ignoring the cries of protest and the threats of death that echoed after him.

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A/N Okay, okay, okay-- I know-- NOT a typical story. But this plot bunny started biting me the other day, so I'm giving it a chance. It's only going to be a two part thing-- 'cause it was only supposed to be a one-shot but I find it is leading me astray, and I thought I'd follow it to see if it leads to a payoff or a dead-end.

:D


	2. Chapter 2

((for those like me who have to look things up--_ imouto_ is younger sister, and _ani_ is older brother, and _Machi_ really is ten thousand according to the online baby book, and not an attempt to flatter any certain writer out there... which is just as well, as at the online English to Japanese site, Machi means Street or Road...))

Splinter could not figure out what Michelangelo was up to. And his brothers were NOT offering their father and Sensei any clues at the moment.

That first night, after he had talked Splinter (correction: NAGGED Splinter) into telling him where babies came from, he had been acting differently. NOT in a bad way, but definitely something was troubling the young turtle. He had come out of his room, chased by the threats of his brothers over some incident, and had climbed up on the couch, leaning into his father but not crying or pouting or doing anything to otherwise indicate the need for fatherly comfort.

Indeed, he had carefully hugged Splinter, and then sat there the rest of the night, resting up against him as if he had become attached at the hip.

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"Something the matter, my son?" he had asked, but Michelangelo had shaken his head and hugged him lightly again.

Something was definitely going on. Michelangelo seemed distant from his brothers, but was clinging to Splinter at every possible moment, offering to help with dinner, with cleaning up, with scavenging, with training...

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"Should you be demonstrating that move, Sensei?" he had asked in a worried tone, earning groans of disbelief from his brothers and a puzzled frown from Splinter. "I mean, won't it... um..."

" 'Won't it'... what?" Splinter had asked.

"Nothing, Sensei, sorry, Sensei," he had bowed and then had remained quiet the rest of the lesson.

The other three seemed to be ignoring Michelangelo a lot lately as well. There seemed to be no animosity, but they did not play with him as they normally did.

And he did not seem to care.

Splinter occasionally overheard the odd sentence or two, but he had never been one to blatantly eavesdrop on them. He used to listen in sometimes when they were younger, but that was because either they were plotting mischief or were playing some game and they sounded so funny and cute he could not resist. But for the most part he allowed them their privacy.

Still, he was beginning to wonder if he should put his stealthy parent skills to good use and get to the bottom of this...

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Mikey sat at the kitchen table, notebook in front of him, pencil poised, deep concentration on his face. His brow was wrinkled into many thought frowns, and his tongue peeked from the side of his mouth as he considered his list.

His battered bear, Mr. Growly, was perched on the table just in front of the book, looking for all the world as if he were reading what his owner had written-- only upside down.

With a determined movement, he crossed out something... tapped his pencil lightly on the table as he stared at the ceiling... then his face smoothed out into the brilliant smile of divine inspiration, and with ah audible "ah HA!" he quickly scribbled something on his pad.

When he finished, he looked at it, beaming as if he had solved the hardest problem Splinter could assign him in math.

"Doing school work?" the slightly disbelieving voice of Leo came pushing its way into his happy thoughts, and Mikey, quickly turning the notebook over protectively, glared at his oldest brother.

"Gee, Mr. Growly, did you hear someone speak?" he said sarcastically to his bear. "I thought there were only two of us in here."

Leo sighed inwardly. He had to admit, he had been ignoring Mikey lately. But truth to tell, Mikey had been giving all of them the cold shell as well, ever since they had tried to convince him that there was no sister coming, that he was mistaken in his assumptions, that he was wrong...

That all this talk of Splinter having a baby was so dumb!

And he had said so.

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"Oh yeah? If it's so dumb, then why don't you guys go ask him? HUH?"

The three had frozen, exchanging puzzled looks. None of them could quite bring themselves to go to Splinter and say "are you having a baby?" NO one wanted to look stupid in Father's eyes.

"Mikey, this is just ridiculous! We've shown you the stuff in the books," Leo, interrupting his quest for a glass of milk, said in an exasperated tone of voice, trying once again to convince his brother of the impossibility of such an act.

Mikey pretended that only he and Mr. Growly were in the room.

"I hope you won't be too jealous of the new baby, Mr. Growly," he said deliberately. "I will still play with you, but I'll have to help Father with him or her... you know, I think it's going to be a girl! YEAH! Definitely a little sister for me to play with. Sisters has **gots** to be more fun than dumb head old brothers."

"Yeah, at the moment, a sister **would **be better than a brother!" Leonardo snapped, milk forgotten in the sting of his little brother's words, and he stormed out of the kitchen.

"Huh!" Mikey snorted, looking at Mr. Growly. "He's probably jealous of the new baby-- probably thinks that Splinter will not pay him any attention any more. But I know that he will still pay us all attention! After all, there are four of us, and he always pays us each a lot of attention! Especially Raph, when he gets in trouble! Hahahahaha!"

Then he returned to his list, and sighed happily at the latest entry: **Hamato Machi**! Yes! What better name than one that comes from the word ten thousand in Japanese? She would bring the family ten thousand times the happiness.

And the best part? He would finally be an ani, with an imouto to care for!

He grabbed his sketchbook that was on the table next to Mr. Growly, flipped open to a clean page, and began to work on his current drawing. Now that he had the perfect name, he had to work on the perfect "Welcome to the Family" picture.

He had done okay with drawing himself, but the coming sibling was a puzzlement. He **knew** that she would not be a turtle, but would she be all rat? After all, there were so many gaps in his knowledge. Well, of course she would be a rat, but would she be a mutated rat, or would she be like the normal rats that ran around the sewers?

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Hmmm... if only Don weren't so grouchy at the moment, I could go ask him... he's smart... well, except for not believing me when I say Father is having a baby... still, it's a shame... oh well! He'll see that I was right when she arrives, and then he will apologize. All of them will... I might forgive Don, at least **he **didn't call me a doo-doo brain like Raph did... dumb old Leo agreed with him, so he can wait forever for a forgiveness as well, but Don will definitely get one from me... WHEN he admits that I was right all the time, that is...

Mikey looked at his work, admiring his own skills! He had learned to draw himself from looking in the mirror, and even Splinter had been pleased with his progress in being able to capture the images of his brothers and father. Maybe he would be a famous artist someday!

But now came the hardest part: creating something from imagination and making it look real. He thought and thought and thought of all the movies and cartoons he'd seen and stories he'd read and comics he'd collected... and finally set to work, laboring upon this vision of a little sister with as much dedication as his long-ago namesake must have labored on that painting on the ceiling... _I should try painting on the ceiling... maybe Father will let me paint the baby's room... once we decide where that room is..._

In the bedroom, Leo was recounting his "conversation" with Mikey to Don and Raph, who were sitting on the floor, their own projects for the moment interrupted by the "urgent meeting" their brother had convened.

"We gotta put a stop to this craziness," Leo concluded. "It's not right, him acting like this and believing this junk! It's not good for him."

Don furrowed his brow, and looked at Leo.

"Why isn't it good? Who is it hurting? Sooner or later he's gonna find out from Splinter the truth, and then that'll be the end to it," he reasonably pointed out, going back to his latest invention: a remote-control car that could turn into a robot! Ever since he'd seen that cartoon show...

Leo looked at the smart turtle, and shook his head.

"Don!" he said, grabbing the screwdriver from his brother to get his attention. "Don't you ever watch daytime TV? I've seen those talk shows. Mikey is in denial..."

"Denial?" Raph interrupted, glancing up from his book that Splinter had assigned for a geography report (which was due upon Splinter's return from scavenging, and Raph had only now just started reading). He looked at the page he was on, then back to Leo. "What's a river in Egypt got to do with--"

"DE-nial" Leo enunciated. "NOT 'THE NILE'! It means that he doesn't want to believe the truth, so he believes what he wants to believe."

"Ya mean like you believing that you're stronger than me?" Raph could NOT help saying that. "Wow, Leo is in 'denial'!"

Leo smacked his own forehead. NOW he had two problems, namely Mikey believing that Splinter was pregnant and the fact that **he** had inadvertently taught Raph a new word to use against him.

"It's not healthy for Mikey to keep believing in something that isn't true," Leo tried again, only to be blind sided by his brainy brother.

"Oh, you mean like your believing in the Monster of the Sewers?" Don innocently inquired, earning a startled look from Leo and suppressed snickers from Raph.

Leo grew red in the face.

"HEY! I saw that thing! I wasn't making it up!" Mikey for the moment forgotten, Leo now felt the need to defend himself against his brothers.

"Now, Leo," Raph chided, wagging a finger at his oldest sibling. "Splinter told you that thing doesn't exist. You're not living in denial, are you?"

"Certainly sounds like it," Don agreed, grabbing his screwdriver back from Leo and then jumping up to his bunk with his project. He grinned down on his eldest brother wickedly. "But then, I don't watch many daytime TV talk shows."

Leo was now caught between Raph on the floor and Don on the top bunk. Whom to thump first? Both were capable and willing to attack from behind once he went for either of them. He'd learned that the hard way.

"OOOH!" he fumed, as the suppressed snickers from both of them continued. "Mikey was right about one thing: a sister WOULD be better than brothers at the moment!" And he once again stormed out of a room.

Meanwhile, in the sewers, Splinter was heading home. He had had a good evening of scavenging, and had even managed a trip to the Sakais grocery, slipping in immediately after closing time for once instead of waiting for later. They were entertaining relatives, and the noise of their happy family gathering was such that it made it possible for him to risk entering so soon.

Now, home to his happy family. He hoped they liked the special treat he had managed to get for them.

Entering the lair, he was greeted by four sons coming from different rooms. He thought little of it as they came scurrying to welcome him home and relieve him of his bags.

"Careful, Michelangelo," he warned. "There are eggs in that bag."

"Eggs? But we already have two dozen," Mikey pointed out as he carefully began to empty the contents onto the kitchen table.

"Well, I got more because I wanted to bake something special," he replied, removing his "topside" clothing as the others also began putting things away. "Lately I have been wanting some deviled eggs, so I thought I would make some tonight."

Mikey, in the midst of his work, paused, and with a significant smirk at Leo, grinned at his father.

"You mean you've been **craving** them?" he asked innocently.

Splinter, paying no attention to any significance this comment had, nodded his head.

"Yes, I guess you could say so," he replied, sitting down at the kitchen table and opening up another bag, beginning to pull clothing from it. "We haven't had any since Mrs. Sakai made some for us a few months ago. They were delicious."

Mikey wore a grin the entire time he put away the rest of the food. Leo merely ignored him. After all, they all got cravings for certain foods! That didn't mean anything!

Then his attention was caught by the clothing. Splinter was holding up a very small, very pink sweater, admiring it.

"I remember when you were all small enough to wear such items," he sighed, seeing them as tiny turtle tots again for a few brief seconds. "This is in very good shape. I wonder why it was discarded."

Absently he folded it, and put it on the table with the other items of clothing he had scrounged-- and to Leo's horror and Mikey's delight, he had placed it in the "keep for clothing" pile, **not** the "save for rags" pile!

Leo gulped, then looked at Don and Raph.

They, too, seemed just for the moment unsure.

Was Mikey right?

NO! He couldn't be right! He just COULDN'T be!

Could he?

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**A/N** Okay--this is turning out longer than I intended, but when the plot bunny bites, he bites darn hard! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

I keep forgetting to say-- TMNT are the property of Mirage. Thanks to Terran!

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"Can I get you anything, Sensei?"

"Are you comfortable, Father?"

"Let me carry that for you, Sensei."

"Um.. I really think you shouldn't be climbing all those ladders, Father! Let me go with you and I'll do it for you!"

"How long is nine months?"

"Do you sometimes wish one of us had been a girl?"

For the past several days, Michelangelo had been worrying Splinter. He was constantly being "helpful" to the point where Splinter's normal chores were being doubled if not tripled. Splinter had to mop the kitchen floor after Michelangelo decided to wax it (to such a slippery sheen that it was not safe for anyone to venture forth unawares and at any speed other than extremely slow-- as Raphael had painfully found out-- three times).

His attempts to clean the bathtub with a powerful cleaner resulted in Splinter's having to carry Michelangelo to the nearest ladder and up to fresh air, as the fumes had so overcome him to the point of his nearly blacking out even as he was throwing up. Indeed, they all had to spend an hour outside of the Lair while the front door remained open so as to help ventilate the fumes. As a result, when they went back in, it smelled of sewer and ammonia was in every room.

The ventilation system that brought them fresh air (for years Splinter had never questioned why they did not all suffocate-- it wasn't until Donatello discovered the that the "vents" led to a larger system that somehow kept fresh air coming into their home while removing anything "bad"-- that Splinter finally thought of such a thing) worked overtime to dispense with the rest of the odor, but according to Raphael it smelled "better than Mikey-- man, go wash off that puke smell!"

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"I can't go into the bathroom just yet," he had replied sullenly.

"NONE of us can," Leo had said, squirming and wondering just how much longer he could hold out before having to hit the sewers.

There were other incidents as well, but Splinter, though he thought and thought, could not figure out what was going on with his son.

He had even tried the direct approach.

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"What is going on?"

"Nothing! I'm just trying to make it easier for you... you know, at this time... when you're... um... tired."

Splinter's ears twitched back and forth in puzzlement.

"Tired, my son? When have I said that I was tired?"

Michelangelo squirmed.

"Well, you haven't but I'm guessing that you are, what with... um... everything and all," he said.

Mikey had determined that he would not bring up the coming baby. He had watched enough shows lately to tell him that the parent liked to be the one to give the good news-- so it was up to Splinter to finally spring it on them, and Mikey had already planned on how surprised he was going to be.

"How's this look?" he had asked Don one particularly annoying day when Splinter was out with Raphael and Leonardo on a training exercise. The other two were left home to finish their assignments, and now that they were done-- well, Don's had been done within twenty minutes of receiving it three days ago, but Mikey had not "found the time" yet-- "Splinter says 'My sons, I have an announcement: I am going to have a baby!' And this is what I do--"

Here he first sat on a chair, legs crossed, hands folded on one knee, with a look of exaggerated "seriousness" as he listened to his father begin the announcement. Then his eyes flew wide, and his face went into an amazing display of "shock"-- accompanied by the lifting of his hands to frame his face as it were, with finger exclamation points-- quickly followed by "growing joy" and ending with his leaping off of the chair and rushing to the couch, where he pretended to be hugging Splinter.

" 'Oh, FATHER! THAT is the most surprising news! Congratulations!'" he said in a loud and sincere tone of voice, the happiness literally dripping from him as he pretended to sit by Splinter, holding his invisible hand in his own while patting it and looking up with glistening eyes.

Then he jumped up and bowed to Don.

"Mikey, you're gonna get a surprise, and no doubt about it," Don commented. He was through-- they were all through-- trying to convince their brother that Splinter was not pregnant. When Splinter had saved the pink sweater while talking about "craving" a certain type of food, they had been for one very brief moment unsure-- but it did not take long for them to snap out of it. In fact, after a few days of listening to Mikey going on and on about how cute the baby was going to look in that pink sweater, Don wanted to go to Sensei and tell him just exactly what was wrong with their youngest brother, but Raph had said no and Leo had backed him up!

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"Let's just let him think it for awhile, and see what happens," Raph had said after watching a harried Splinter mopping up suds while an apologetic Mikey followed in his wake, profuse in his regret for having "put too much soap in the machine, but I know how clean you like your sheets". "I mean, come on! Splinter already thinks Mikey is out of his mind! Did you see how he looked at him when Mikey brought him that 'special treat'?"

"What surprised me was that he actually ate it!" Leo's face wrinkled up in disgust, recalling the nacho chips with HOT applesauce.

"Well, he didn't want to hurt Mikey's feelings, and you know how he hates to throw food away," Don pointed out. Splinter had not looked as if he had enjoyed it, but he put on a good enough show for Michelangelo.

"Yeah, but Mikey fixed it for him again, remember? It was for dessert. He gave it to all of us." Raph snorted.

"Don't remind me," Don said, shuddering at the strange taste of the warmed up applesauce coating the extra-spicy chips.

"And he fixed it again as a late-night snack," Raph continued, recalling the nasty taste himself. "Splinter's lucky Mikey didn't start bringin' it to him for breakfast."

"Only 'cause he went into the kitchen and hid the rest of the chips," Leo said, and he told them of getting up late at night for a drink of water only to find Father carefully hiding the chips where Mikey couldn't find them.

Don shook his head as Mikey continued on, practicing his "serious" look, followed by his "surprised and happy" look over and over.

Yes-- they were through trying to convince him--

Darn it! Don could not stand this any longer. This was his brother-- his poor, deluded, crazy brother, and Don could not stand watching him go on believing this impossibility. Santa Claus was one thing-- Splinter giving birth was another.

Quickly he went into Splinter's room, searched the shelves until he found the book he needed, and reappeared just as Mikey, on the couch, was promising Splinter to "love my very own little sister more than anything in the world, just you wait and see, Father! And HEY! I've just thought of a name!"

Don snorted. They had heard of the name he had "just thought of" a million times. Machi. Raph was already calling "her" **Matches** much to his youngest brother's anger.

He joined Mikey on the couch, and opened the book to the pictures of the human male and female reproduction systems.

"Mikey, let me show you something," Don pleaded, pointing to the first diagram. "See here? This is what is inside every human woman. It's called a 'womb'. That is the special place a baby grows inside the woman. And these things?" He pointed to two funny-shaped objects, each with a tube coming off of it. "Those are the ovaries. That is where the eggs come from that grow into babies-- in the WOMB."

Mikey listened politely, nodding his head as Donatello continued a detailed anatomy lesson on the reproduction system of humans.

"And see here?" Donnie continued, an insistent green finger pointing to the diagram of the Man's insides. "This is the man-- see? HE don't have the same stuff inside-- there is no womb in him--"

"Of course there's no womb," Mikey barely could keep from cracking up. "It's too crowded in there already!"

And he literally fell over on the couch, laughing until tears ran down his cheeks.

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I should just hit him with the book.

"Mikey," Don persisted, once his little brother had laughed himself out. "Look. Men do not have babies. Women do. Women are the only ones with the right equipment to carry the babies. Splinter does NOT have any of this stuff in him!"

Mikey favored his intelligent brother with a pitying look and shook his head.

"Of COURSE he don't gots that stuff!" Mikey said, almost patting Don on the head but thinking twice about it. "That's 'cause he ain't HUMAN! He's a rat!"

And he got up and went to the bathroom, muttering something about "not so smart after all".

Don wished he had a little sister at that moment. ANYTHING would be an improvement sibling/wise at the moment.

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Splinter awoke, aware that something had happened-- something he had heard in his sleep had finally registered in his brain, and he was alert to the danger before he was truly awake. He was out of bed, walking stick in hand, before he fully realized the fact.

Senses working, he sniffed. His ears strained in the dark as he made his way out of his room and down the hall. He knew this was not the usual "go to the bathroom/get a drink" type of activity. He had heard the front door. He was certain of it! He was NOT dreaming!

It was closed-- but not locked!

Quickly, quietly, he made his way to his sons' room, where soft snores alerted him to the fact that at least Raphael was there. A quick bed check revealed that Michelangelo was gone!

He was out the door in no time, sniffing for his son-- yes! The scent was still strong. He did had a bit of a head-start, but Splinter would have no trouble tracking him.

Swiftly, silently, he moved through the dimly lit tunnels, every sense straining for a trace of Michelangelo. He had no time to wonder why, no room in his worried parent mind to consider the reasons his son would venture out like this. All he could think of was find him-- and spank him!

He traced him to a ladder-- he didn't!

He did! He'd gone above ground-- by himself!

Splinter was up and out of the sewer so quickly that if anyone had been watching it would have been a vague blur of movement.

Splinter found himself at the back of the darkened collection center where he usually scrounged clothes among the late-night donations (and the cast-offs that the charities rejected)-- and there was Michelangelo, dressed for being topside, the only being present in the deserted yard, mumbling to himself as he dug through a pile of...

TOYS!

"Hmm... nope... nope... what the heck? Who would give this to a kid? Nope... a-ha!"

And Splinter watched as his son held aloft some prize that the harried rat could not identify despite the weak lights of the surrounding neighborhood.

"This is perfect! It's hardly used!"

Then Splinter watched as his son quickly pocketed the item, then made a check-mark on a piece of paper.

"Now... teething ring... hmm... she can chew on some of Raph's toys," he muttered, oblivious to the parental storm about to break all around him.

"Why are you out here alone?" Splinter snapped, causing Michelangelo to scream and dive for the nearest receiving bin. The rat was quickly behind him, snatching him by the collar of his coat and pulling him out in the open, then roughly rushing him to the manhole cover and down into the tunnels before anyone had noticed his son's shriek of fright.

All the way home Splinter was too angry to say anything more than "Home. Now."

All the way home, Michelangelo kept all comments to himself, busily planning his story-- after all, he could NOT let Splinter know what he was planning! It was a surprise! He had been working hard to prepare, sneaking out and up to that place for the past few days-- usually when Splinter himself was out scavenging, but tonight he had decided to go when there was no one around to eye him suspiciously...

Home. Mikey and Splinter entered quietly-- the others were still asleep, and Splinter did not wish to draw their attention to this foolish stunt of their brother's.

Splinter guided Michelangelo through the dark to his own, room, where he lit a candle, took a deep calming breath, and then turned on his youngest, towering over him, hands on hips, glaring.

What is going on?" he asked slowly and firmly. He was not going to accept anything except the truth. Mikey knew this.

But he couldn't tell! That would ruin the surprise! He just HAD to keep this a secret! He had to do something, anything, he had to--

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes and yawned mightily, stretching and acting as if he had just awakened.

"Mornin' Sensei," he mumbled, bowing-- then looked around in surprise. "Uh... What? What's going on? HOW did I get in here? Where did these clothes come from?"

Splinter watched this display with growing disbelief. Michelangelo was trying to fool his father? MICHELANGELO?

Splinter had to work hard to suppress his anger. He was literally shaking with the after effects of having to hunt down his son and return him before humans had discovered him. His hands clenched so tightly that he could feel his nails digging into the pads of his palms. He drew at least five cleansing breaths before he could trust himself to speak. This would have to wait. If he punished him now, it would be in anger, and Splinter did not wish to do that-- he was afraid he would hurt the child.

"Hamato Michelangelo, you are required in the dojo before breakfast," he managed to say, his rage only betrayed by his tail and ears. "You will go to bed now, and you will meet me in the dojo at six a.m. sharp. Go."

Partly relieved, partly scared, Mikey left the room and went to bed-- after first depositing his latest find in his secret place where he was gathering the various presents and supplies needed for his surprise for Splinter. He'd been preparing for days, after seeing something about such things on TV, and not even a spanking was going to deter him from doing this for Splinter.

He was going to throw the bestest surprise baby shower in the world!


	4. Chapter 4

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Well, this chapter ended up being way too long, so I've split it up, and once I do a few more things, I'll be able to put up the second part! Thanks to Splinter for her help! Thanks for reading. TMNT are not mine, whether slow past or fast forward.

Mikey stood in the dojo, waiting for parental justice.

He didn't know if he would survive, but he knew that he would never reveal his true reasons to his father.

He wasn't exactly going to **lie** to the Rat-- just **withhold** some of the truth!

__

Now-- what would be a good reason for sneaking out of the lair late at night to go alone to the charity place and risk life, limb, and tail like that? Hmm... a SURPRISE! YES! Well, it IS a surprise, but for whom? Hmm... Don? Naw, a surprise for Don would be to go to the junk yard. Raph? Why would anyone want to surprise HIM?

Leo?

Leo's birthday is coming up!

Long ago Splinter had let them choose their own birthdays so they could have one day of the year that was their special own. It had taken a lot of discussion and patience to convince Mikey that he could not have "Saturday" as a birthday.

__

"You must pick a day," Splinter tried again. Little Michelangelo, nodded and grinned, ignoring the calendar that his father held on his lap while his brothers crowded around, trying to choose their very own days.

"Saturday! Saturday is the bestest!" the young turtle exclaimed. "I like it! The name is cool! Saturday! Saturday! Saturday!"

"Mikey, each Saturday has a different number," Don said. "You gots to pick--"

"I like Saturday!" Mikey frowned, and turned disappointed eyes upon his father. "You said we can pick our birfday! I want Saturday!"

"Ya gots to pick a Month and a NUMBER, Mikey!" Raph said, and he pointed to the calendar, turning the page back a few and grinning. There was a picture of a huge bear-- the hugest, biggest, largest bear in all the world! "Like me! I picked a month and a number-- March One! That's my birthday! Pick a month and a number!"

"Oh," Mikey finally seemed to get it. His forehead wrinkled up in thought, then he smiled. "Novebruary 43!"

"July 7th," Splinter chose for him.

True-- it was now September, and Leo's January birthday was still a few months away-- but it would work! It HAD to work!

"Psst! Mikey!"

Speak of the turtle! There, sticking his head into the dojo, then glancing behind him in fear of being caught was Leo. Mike knew better than to walk over to the door-- he was to stand in the spot that they were expected to be in when Splinter Sensei made his terrible appearance to begin the "trial"-- but he waved just the same.

Leo, gulping, slunk into the room, quickly and quietly closing the door, and made his way to his youngest brother as swiftly as possible.

"Mikey, what the heck were you doing going out by yourself like that?" Leo began to half-lecture, half-worry at Mikey. "Are you outta your mind?"

"I had to do it, Leo!" Mikey earnestly replied. "I had to find some stuff for the baby so she can--"

"Mikey! There is no baby. Splinter can't have a baby! You gotta tell him the truth and stop all this nonsense!" Leo commanded, drawing himself up in big brother fashion.

"Leo, you're wrong, Don's wrong, and Raph is wrong," Mikey calmly replied. "Only Raph is always wrong about everything. I know what is gonna happen. I needed to get some stuff, and I got it, and now I can have the surprise party!"

Leo looked at Mikey, confused. Then he shook it off. He had little time.

"Mikey! If you don't tell Splinter the truth, I will! I do not want any brother of mine to **lie** to our father!"

"When Machi gets here--"

"Mikey! THERE IS NO BABY COMING!"

"Leonardo! Are you in the dojo?"

Splinter's voice, coming from the kitchen, sounded as if it were right behind them. Leo jumped in guilty surprise, and ran to the door, sticking his head out long enough to reply "No, Sensei!" before rushing back to Mikey.

"You just lied," Mikey pointed out.

But Leo would not be distracted by semantics.

"I'm gonna tell Splinter the whole story!"

"Don't you dare!" Mikey grew angry. "I'm having a surprise party for Splinter! You can't tell him! You'll ruin everything!"

"You can't lie to Splinter!"

"I ain't gonna lie!"

"Yes you are! I can tell!"

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Leonardo, are you looking for a spanking as well?"

This time both turtles jumped. There in the doorway was Splinter, chair in hand, ready to deal with Michelangelo, and looking as if he could spare a few swats for Leonardo as well.

"Umm... no, Sensei. Sorry, Sensei," Leo slowly backed out of the dojo, hands behind his back and protecting his tail. With a final pleading look at Mikey, he ducked out of the room, closing the door.

Mikey gulped and bowed to Splinter, mind racing furiously. Leo had distracted him from his cover story-- perhaps it should be a surprise for Raph after all...

Splinter set the chair in the usual spot and sat down, facing his son.

"Well?"

"I-- I-- I can't say," he finally managed, shoulders sagging. Then he looked up at Splinter, and pleaded with his whole face. "I don't wanna lie to you, but I can't tell, I really can't! It's for a surprise and-- and--"

"A surprise for whom?"

__

For Raph-- no, for Don-- I mean, for Leo--

"I-- I can't say--" he struggled to keep from crying. "Please don't make me tell! Please? I know I did wrong! I know I'm in big trouble! I know I'm gonna get a spanking and a grounding and have to scrub the dojo floor for a whole month--"

"**Two** months."

Gulp.

"Two months," Mikey echoed.

"AND no television for two months as well."

"And no-- no--" His face threatened to crumble before his father's eyes. He struggled mightily and held on. "-- no television-- two months."

"And-- no treats of any kind for a month."

"NO! I mean, yes, no treats for a-- a-- month."

That last word wrenched from his soul. Splinter continued to look at this stubborn son thoughtfully.

"Tell me why you did such a dangerous thing, and some of those punishments will be lifted," Splinter said. He could not understand his son's need to keep this secret, and he was puzzled whether he should allow it. At the very least, he had to ensure that his son NEVER put foot above ground like that again.

"I can't," Mikey whispered, eyes lowering to the floor.

Splinter gazed at him for a few minutes more. It crossed his mind to mention that they were going to have cake for dessert tonight. Mrs. Sakai had sent one in gratitude for some small favor she imagined that Splinter had done, and he had planned on surprising them. But now...

"Very well," he said, and prepared to administer the spanking.

Later, in his room, a sniffling Mikey had managed to forgive Splinter in his heart.

__

After all, he doesn't know what's being planned, and he is probably still cranky from being pregnant. But it was mean to add the two thousand word essay on "Why it is in my best interest and the interest of my family to obey my father". I DO obey him! Oh well...

Don came in to fetch something he needed, and eyed his brother lying on his bunk.

"Why don't you just tell Splinter the truth?"

"Because I want him to be surprised."

"Mikey, please-- PLEASE do not do this! Splinter is not--"

Mikey covered his ears with his hands and began singing "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round" as loudly as he could.

Don sighed, shook his head, and left the room.

Once Don left, Mikey jumped down from his bunk and went to his super secret his only hiding place, and opened the special "keep out Michelangelo only can look in here" box. Smiling, he looked at his preparations.

The pink sweater that Splinter had found that day was now wrapped and ready to be opened along with a very nice handmade card congratulating Splinter on the coming event. Mikey had worked hard to wash it and not ruin it, and now it looked brand-new.

The party hats were made from recycled cardboard and lots of coloring. Mikey had had a difficult time getting the cardboard to cone just right, but with much perseverance he had made five hats with yarn to tie them on with. Splinter's was decorated with many cutouts from some of the magazines he brought home for various educational reasons (though why "Good Housekeeping" was educational he had no idea). Lots of baby stuff decorated it, and on the top Mikey had put some blue and pink tassels made from white ribbon that he colored with markers.

Mikey pulled his secret list and checked off for a third time what he had.

Party favors-- check! He once again held up the noisemakers, and marveled again, thinking of that lucky day when Splinter had taken **him** to the store run by the Sakais and he had managed to make this purchase right under Father's nose. Splinter had wondered at the time, but as each son was allowed to buy one item provided they had their own money, he had kept quiet.

It had been a hard choice. There were also party hats, really nice ones, but Mikey had only enough money for one item. But he knew it would be easier to make the hats than these things!

Party games-- check! Mikey had managed, by reading some of those magazines as he was cutting out the pictures, to discover a few games that are played at baby showers. The best one sounded like the word game where each person tried to see how many words they could make from the baby's name. "Hamato Machi" would offer a challenge, since it had five vowels and six consonants, but it should still be fun, and besides, they could do the same with their own names as well!

Presents-- check!

Prizes-- check!

Luckily Mikey had saved all his jelly beans from Easter. They were a bit sticky and stale, and mostly the licorice ones, but they would do for treats. He'd found some small socks that Splinter had put away in the closet that had used to belong to him and his brothers. It was hard to realize that their feet had been so small then. Anyway, filled with jelly beans, they looked like baby booties and would be cute to hand out to the winners of the games. Too bad they were mismatched, and none of them were pink or blue (lots of brown, a few black, and one with little cartoon characters all over it-- THAT one would be the grand prize!), but they would do.

Cake-- no check.

He had still not figured out a way to bake a cake from scratch. On those rare occasions when Splinter made cake, he used box mixes that he was lucky enough to procure. Mikey had been looking through the cookbooks, but though he felt that he could do the job, a trip to the cupboard showed him that many of the ingredients were not available.

"Oh, well, perhaps we can use some of the cookies instead," he said aloud.

"Instead of what?" Raph, entering the room, asked him.

Mikey managed not to scream, but it was all he could do to stash his surprise party things back into hiding before Raph could see them.

"Nothing," he immediately said at the same time, quickly rising and returning to his bunk.

"You was goin' over your party stuff again," Raph smiled, kneeling down on the floor and bending so that he could look under his own bed. With a grunt he flattened out and reached under as far as he could. Mikey could hear a brief scuffling as if Raph were trying wrestling with the monster under the bed, then he sat up on his knees with a triumphant grin and his race car in hand.

"I thought that was broken," Mikey said, trying to keep the conversation from returning to the party.

"Yeah, it is broken. Thanks to you," Raph said, dusting it off with the corner of his blanket. "But Don's gonna fix it for me! So, when you gonna give up this whole baby sister thing? 'Cause you're gonna have a long wait. Splinter can't have a baby."

Mikey shrugged.

"Dunno 'bout that," he mumbled, turning his face to the wall and trying to ignore his older brother. He could feel Raph's eyes boring into his shell. When he looked back down again he found he was right. Raph, still on the floor, was gazing up at his youngest brother with an odd look on his face.

"Mikey," he said, and Mikey was shocked to notice that Raph's voice was missing something: ridicule. "I'm askin' ya to please tell Splinter why ya been actin' this way. Maybe you'll believe HIM, since you won't listen to us. We wouldn't kid you, bro. Splinter can't have babies."

Mikey ignored the hard lump forming in his throat, the stinging of tears in his eyes. They were wrong. They HAD to be wrong! Mikey wasn't dumb. Splinter was--

"Michelangelo!" Splinter called. "Come to the kitchen and begin your essay while prepare dinner."

Raph looked over his shoulder, then back to Mikey. His moment to talk his brother out of this crazy thought had been interrupted.

"Man, Splinter sure sounds cranky," Raph couldn't help but say-- and then wished he hadn't. Mikey, with a relieved grin, bounded off the bed.

He had ALMOST listened to Raph-- almost!

"Coming, Father!" he called, and with a gleeful smile he skipped off to the kitchen.

Raph looked at his race car.

"You think you're gonna do something helpful, and then you say the wrong word," he said to the car. Then he shrugged. "Well, you can't say I didn't try."


	5. Chapter 5

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TMNT are not mine, otherwise I'd be happy and not worrying about things.

Mikey sat at the kitchen table, notebook and writing supplies surrounding him. His drawing tablet was also there, and loyal Mr. Growly as well, perched on the table in his usual position of watching the progress of his Mikey's assignments.

He looked rather carefree, old Mr. Growly, except for the fact that he was missing a leg (Raph was eventually forgiven by Mr. Growly, but Mikey still had hard feelings at certain times) and had several "scars" from where Splinter had sewn him back together. Mikey, once he got over the initial shock of the "accident", had to admire his bear's new tough-guy look.

"You wear your scars well, Mr. Growly," he said, as he worked on the first paragraph of his writing assignment.

Splinter, used to such actions, wisely ignored his son. He had found that if left to this method, Michelangelo would write with little distraction, and would finish his assignment without fuss. He went about preparing the potatoes for baking, and looked in the freezer. There was enough meat-- perhaps some chicken tonight? They were sparing at this time of year because it was harder to get it, but with the coming fall and winter, Splinter would be able to get a lot more. The boys were not really big meat eaters at times, but with the colder weather looming they would need the protein.

He got out the cut up pieces, and prepared to stick them in the oven first, as they were frozen. If he were careful, he could bake the potatoes and not dry out the chicken. A little of this and that, and soon the pieces were seasoned and ready to cook.

Mikey worked on his essay.

__

"I should listen to Splinter all the time because if I don't, I could get caught by the humans and they would put me in a cage and make me do tricks and when they find out I can talk they will make me tell where my family is and then they will all be caught and put in cages and then we will all have to work in the circus and not as a cool thing like tight rope walker or trapeze artist or lion tamer but as the animals instead."

He smiled, sitting back to reread the first paragraph. Then he counted the words and frowned. He knew by looking at it that it was far from two thousand words, but still! Ninety-two was not much of a dent in the assignment.

Mikey figured if he wrote the same thing over again and again at least twenty-one times, then he'd only have to come up with sixty-eight more words to make two thousand!

Surely Splinter never really read ALL of the essays, did he?

Mr. Growly looked at the paper, and Mikey could read his thoughts.

"You're right, Mr. Growly. He **does **read all of it."

Mikey got back to work, oblivious to the fact that his father had been listening even as he prepared dinner.

A strange sound, muffled and yet audible, suddenly echoed in the lair. Everyone froze as if someone had flipped an on/off switch. Splinter, however, was the first to recover-- and he acted quickly to reassure his sons, whose eyes were large with fear of the unknown.

"Thunder," he said. "It must be a very powerful storm. I heard on the news today that there was going to be bad weather. There is nothing to worry about--"

The sound came again, a bit louder. It must be pretty much over the closest manhole cover for them to hear it echoing into the lair. It had happened before, but usually they were blissfully unaware of such things-- except for the flooding.

"Hmm..." Splinter wiped his hands on a dishrag, and checked the timer on the dinner. Then he sighed. If the thunder was loud enough to filter down to them, then the storm must be a powerful one for sure.

"Donatello, make sure we have candles available," he said, leaving the kitchen. "Leonardo, Raphael, get dressed. We will have to go out and make sure the channels are not blocked. I do not wish to be flooded out. Michelangelo, please make sure the dinner is not burned. You know what to do."

"Hai, Sensei," they chorused, and set about their various instructions.

Soon only Donatello and Michelangelo were left in the lair.

Mikey, after checking the timer, went back to his writing assignment. He had tried to get Splinter to stay in the lair and allow him to take his place, but he had earned many looks from everyone before being reminded that he was grounded.

"You shouldn't exert yourself, Father," Mikey had sincerely tried, using one of the words he'd picked up in recent days. "You really shouldn't! There'll be a lot of climbing and lifting and stuff! We're big now! I could take your place! Leo and Raph did this stuff on their own when they was six--"

"Michelangelo," was all Splinter said.

Mikey, though, did not give up.

"But then how about if Don goes, and you stay home?" he had tried.

Splinter had no time to puzzle over this. He had simply put extra items into his pack and without a further word set out with the two oldest, who looked at their brother as if he'd grown another head, but still kept quiet.

As nuts as they thought he was, none of them could bring themselves to be the one to squeal on him. They couldn't really say why, though. They had started to several times, but always something held them back; a feeling that they were going to get their brother in trouble in a way.

Leo, however, was finally determined! As he left with Raph and Sensei to check the channels, he kept thinking about Mikey's attempt to keep Splinter from going. It was time to stop this nonsense! He was going to give Mikey one more chance to come clean with Splinter, or else **he** would!

Don was preoccupied, so Mikey was left to his own devices. His intentions were to finish the assignment-- but eventually his thoughts drifted to his coming little sister.

"I can teach her how to stay out of trouble," he confided to Mr. Growly, as he stared at the assignment that refused to be finished. "That way, she will never have to write a two thousand word essay!"

He tapped his pencil, first aimlessly, then in an unconscious rhythm, and words began to form into a "song" in his head-- a song for Machi!

__

"Machi Machi, little love,

Like an angel from above,

She will be the bestest sis,

And I will love her like a--"

"Hmm... what rhymes with 'sis'?" he asked. Mr. Growly had no suggestions. "HEY! Don! What rhymes with 'sis'?"

"Miss," Don absently called back.

"No. I will love her like a miss? Doesn't work. Hiss. Piss-- No, not piss. Kiss? OH! And I will love her like a kiss! Perfect!"

And, on the page where he was supposed to be writing his essay, Mikey wrote his "Song for Machi".

__

"She's the only sis for me,

More perfect than my brothers three!

Like an angel from above--

Machi, Machi, little love."

"I should be a songwriter!" he enthused, as he looked at the two stanzas he had produced. Then he grinned hugely. "I can sing this at the shower! YES! Man, this is going to be fantastic! I can't wait. I wonder when Splinter's gonna tell us, though. He sure is taking a long time to get around to it."

That caused him to think. **Why** was it taking Splinter so long to say anything? Was he nervous? Was he afraid to tell his adopted sons that he was going to have a baby of his own?

Mikey had been watching a LOT of shows with Splinter since figuring out that there was a baby on the way. The character who was having the baby was nervous about telling anyone that she was having a baby because she was "old"-- she already had children who were grown up.

"Maybe Father is embarrassed for the same reason, only we aren't teenagers," Mikey suggested to Mr. Growly. "Maybe he is afraid of what we'll say... But he should know that we will love the baby!"

He thought about every possible reason for Splinter not telling them all just yet about the blessed event-- well, every possible reason except for the fact that his brothers kept insisting that Splinter could NOT have a baby because he was a **boy**.

__

"He's not a BOY, he's a RAT," Mikey had insisted, turning deaf ears to their arguments. "He's a mutated rat! He's got morning sickness, and he's cranky, and he craves strange foods! And he's getting fatter! I'm not stupid!"

"You're doin' a good job of pretendin' to be, shell for brains!" Raph had shouted, growing more and more frustrated with his youngest brother. "Aww, just forget it! Once Splinter tells you the truth, then you'll see we wasn't lyin' to you!"

"He's not gaining weight, Mikey," Don put in. "His winter coat is coming in. It makes him look fatter. You know this. Every year--"

"The Wheels on the bus go ROUND AND ROUND, ROUND AND ROUND, ROUND AND ROUND, THE--"

Mikey got up to get a glass of milk to take his mind off that evil memory. As he was up, he decided to see if there were any cookies left as well.

"After all, we're gonna need something to eat at the shower," he said aloud to his bear, as he began to scavenge the cupboards.

Nothing. Canned peas, canned peaches, canned soups, canned beans, canned corn, canned mystery stuff 'cause the labels were missing, canned cake, canned--

CAKE?

Mikey, in moving the items around to see if anything vaguely resembling cookies might reside in their cupboard, discovered the nicely covered in a clear plastic top, was a cake!

"It's a MIRACLE!"

"What?" Don called from the living room. Mikey quickly closed the cupboard and rushed back to the table. He grabbed up his pencil and started writing furiously.

"Nothing! I'm just-- you know--"

Don made a suspicious appearance in the kitchen.

"You're just-- you know-- what?"

Mikey looked up from his assignment, shocked.

"Why Don! You're acting just like Leo!"

"And you're acting just like yourself. What are you up to?"

Mikey stood up, gathering his notebook, his drawing pad, his pencils, and his bear, and walked out of the kitchen with as much dignity as an eight-year-old could display. In the living room he flopped everything including himself onto the couch and turned on the TV.

"Hey! You're grounded off the TV!" Don said sternly. Mikey, in a purely Raph-like manner, stuck his tongue out at Don and then flipped the channels just to show that he was his own boss-- well, except for Splinter-- he started to turn it off when his attention was caught by a movie.

"Turn that off now, or I'm telling Splinter!"

Mikey, fixated on the movie, was slowly smiling. Then he was grinning from ear to ear. And THEN he shouted in triumph!

"Ah-HA! Ah-HA to all of you! Men CAN get pregnant! Ah-HA!"

Don, about to shut down the set on his own (after all, he **was** in charge, and Mikey **was** grounded), froze at his brother's sudden shout of triumph.

"What are you... Mikey, I'm not getting into this again. MEN CAN'T HAVE BABIES!"

"Oh, YEAH? Well LOOK AT THAT!" Mikey, off the couch, forced his brother's head to turn toward the screen, where Billy Crystal was going into labor. "See? See? There's a MOVIE about a MAN having a BABY!"

And before Don could react, Mikey was dancing into the bedroom, his mind full-speed ahead with his idea! He would get up extra, extra early, decorate the cake, and give the surprise shower at BREAKFAST! It was perfect! It would force Splinter to finally make his announcement-- though it would take away Mikey's chance to demonstrate his "surprised reaction" to the news-- too bad, he had really gotten it down pat--

Don stood flabbergasted in the living room.

"But Mikey, it is only a movie! It's only a really bad movie!" he called out anyway. He looked at Mr. Growly sprawled on the couch, watching the movie. "It's only the worst movie in the history of movies! It's only make-believe! Man!"


	6. Chapter 6

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Turtles are not mine. Splinter is not mine. Nothing is mine, except for the angst of wanting a brother when younger.

Splinter, preoccupied with the ever-rising water of the tunnels, kept just enough attention on his sons to know that they were with him and not in danger. Other than that, all his hearing focused on was the sound of the amazingly powerful storm raging topside (now that they were closer to the surface, they could hear it with little trouble; indeed, they could sometimes see the flash-echoes of the lightning!), the steadily growing whoosh of the rushing water, and the hiss of impromptu waterfalls cascading into their underground world from the flooding streets above.

From the pipes and ceiling, gathering moisture seeped down cracks or ran down walls, falling on all three and chilling the turtles despite the protective covering of the rainwear.

"We gotta tell him," Leo said softly, even as he kept an eye out for possible trouble. He pulled his hated rain hood up because he was tired of the constant dripping on his head that managed to snake down the exact same path from his neck to those irritatingly unreachable places of his carapace. "Mikey needs to stop this now!"

"Leo, it's-- it's kinda like-- tattlin'," Raph objected. Mad as he got at his brothers, one thing he rarely did unless pushed to it by extreme anger or extreme concern was to be a tattletale. He shivered as the continuing drips from the roof increased into an almost rain-like fall, but stubbornly left his hood off. It made it hard to hear anything, and he always felt trapped in it.

In fact, he had to repeat what he had said to Leo because Leo couldn't hear with the hood up.

"No, it's not tattling if it keeps someone from getting hurt," Leo corrected, trying to keep his voice low but unconsciously raising it, due to the fact that he could barely hear it himself.

"It's not like he's gonna bleed, Leo! It's something that's gonna make him look and feel stupid-- and he should! He's been actin' that way, he should feel it as well."

"I don't want him to be hurt! He's just-- you know, confused."

"He's more than confused, he's outta his mind! Leo, he wants a SISTER! WE'RE not good enough for him! You know what he said last night? He said 'When Machi gets here, I won't have time for you guys, 'cause Splinter's gonna need someone who can take care of a baby to help him out.' Like **he's** got the experience to do such a thing! He thinks that he's the only one who can take care of Machi! **I **can take care of her **just as well** as **he** can!"

Leo pulled his hood down and stared hard at his brother. Raph, returning the stare, slowly realized what he'd just said.

"Aww, MAN! NOW he's got ME doin' it! Mikey is such a troublemaker!"

"He's not! He's just confused! We need to help him!"

"Why should we? He's being stupid on purpose! He KNOWS it's impossible! He just HAS to know!" Raph's voice rose enough to attract Splinter's attention. "I just can't believe a brother of mine could be so stupid--"

"Raphael, I have told you and told you I do not like that word!" Splinter, misunderstanding, turned and faced his sons. "Apologize to Leonardo at once!"

Both turtles stood there, briefly stunned.

"Sensei, he wasn't calling me stupid!" Leonardo assured Splinter.

"I wasn't calling Leo stupid!" Raphael swore at the exact same moment.

Splinter eyed the two carefully, but he could tell that they were being truthful. He turned, deciding to let it go.

Two turtles heaved a sigh of relief.

Then Raph blew it.

"I was callin' **Mikey** stupid 'cause he thinks--"

Too late, he clamped his hands over his big mouth. Splinter turned back to his son, very interested all of a sudden.

"Because he thinks what?"

The boys exchanged looks, oblivious to the now steady pouring of thin streams of water that fell around their heads.

"You two know why Michelangelo has been acting so... 'concerned' lately, do you not?"

Both barely nodded.

"What is it?"

Two voices refused to be heard. Leo wanted to tell Splinter so much, to let him know that his youngest was convinced that their father was having a baby-- how hard could it be?

__

Just open your mouth and say "Mikey thinks you're pregnant, Father!" Just say it!

"Nothing, Sensei," he opted. "He's just-- you know-- um--"

A sudden roaring sound of rushing water distracted all three. Splinter and the two barely had time to scramble to the side and up on some pipes before a foamy gush of water, pushing a load of debris before it, came rushing through the tunnel. The trash and such must have created a temporary dam, and the force of the water building up had been strong enough to break it down.

Fortunately, the water did not reach them, nor remain high, and they were able to get down soon, though they were now wading through the remnants.

"Stay close, my sons," Splinter said, and he held out his tail for the two to hold on to as they made their careful way back towards home, taking care to stay directly behind Sensei so that they would not step off to the side and fall into the deeper channel, where they risked being swept away. "There will be no need to check further in that direction, but we must make sure that the debris does not create an even more powerful obstruction."

For awhile they walked close to the wall, the boys in waist-deep water, clinging to Splinter's tail tightly, resisting the urge to lift their feet and be dragged floating along like they did this past summer on a rare and wonderful trip to a small, secluded inlet along the river.

As they went the level steadily dropped and soon the sides were covered with just a thin surface of water, not even ankle deep; yet the two still held on to Father's tail, more for the security of being with a parent than fear of falling in.

At the other end, it was evident that the debris had been safely washed away, and there would be no need to worry tonight about being flooded out of their home. Splinter turned and the three, wet, shivering, and grateful that nothing need be done, headed towards home and dinner.

"I still think I should tell Splinter," Leo whispered to Raph, mind back on their brother now that their mission was at an end.

Raph shrugged, cold and longing for a hot bat.

"Do what you want. Personally, I'm tempted to wait until the surprise shower," he whispered back.

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Back in the lair, Mikey had triple checked off "cake" on his party list and tried on every hat twice. He had even opened his precious noise makers and carefully blown into one just to celebrate privately the completion of his grand plans.

Now he came out of the room to check on the dinner as Splinter had ordered. He completely ignored Don's futile attempts to explain that "Rabbit Test" was a 1979 movie that was so bad it was rarely shown on TV unless someone committed some crime and needed to be punished, and made his happy way into the kitchen to peek inside the oven.

Looked good. Smelled good. He got down a can of carrots and made a face, but perhaps he should learn to like them. After all, he would have to feed Machi, and the one thing he remembered was Splinter's insistence on eating the mushy carrots because they were yummy to the tummy. He would make the effort so that his sister would learn to like the nasty, mushy, pukey old stuff and grow to be strong.

He opened the can, and placed them in a pan, setting it carefully on the stove as he'd been taught. Once again he felt the same stirring of pride in being the only one trusted to use the stove when Splinter was not home, and he imagined showing off this skill to his baby sister.

__

"Now, now, Machi-chan! Mustn't touch! HOT! HOT!" he heard himself saying to a very small baby toddling towards the dangerous flames! He pulled her back just in time. "Listen to Ani! No touch! No touch!"

"No touch! HOT!" he said aloud, startling himself at the sound of his own voice! Guiltily he looked around, wondering if Don had heard him talking! He should start setting the table instead of fooling around.

As he got the dishes and glasses out, he studied his turtle-covered one. Machi was going to need her own glass. He really was getting too big to drink out of this. His brothers had started drinking more and more out of the larger, plain glasses because they were "too old" for their baby glasses. Mikey, out of pure stubbornness, had continued to use his own, despite the fact that he had to refill it three times during meals because it was so small.

"I'll keep using it until Machi is old enough to drink out of it," he mused, and he got out the silverware and chopsticks.

He started to daydream again, as he went about this chore; he was teaching Machi how to set the table.

__

"This is how you do it, Machi-chan," he was saying, handing the plates to a five year old mutated rat with pink bows decorating her ears. He had to bend down because he was so tall for a thirteen-year-old, and she was still small for her age, like her Ani had been. "First, take the plates to the table."

"Okay, Ani," she replied, struggling to get all six plates to the table without dropping them. It was a bit of a reach, but she was finally able to lift them all up to the top with a grunt of satisfaction. "Now what?"

"Now we set the utensils just like this-- can you say 'utensils'?"

The little girl laughed a giggly laugh.

"I can say lots of things, Mikey! I'm not a baby any more!"

Mikey patted her furry head and grinned.

"That's right. You're a very big girl now! Though you still can't say my name!"

"Yes I can! It's Mikeyanjo! When can I learn the nunchukas like you, Mikeyanjo?"

"When you are much older. Now, you set Father's place. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Okay!" And Mikey watched as little sister carefully placed the knife, fork, spoon, and chopsticks in the correct positions around the plate as her Ani had showed her. Then she beamed up at him, waiting for his approval.

The timer sounding snapped Mikey out of his beautiful fantasy, and he quickly checked the progress. The potatoes were finished, but the chicken could do with a few more minutes. Mikey removed the potatoes and wrapped them carefully in a tea towel, set them in a bowl, and placed them near the stove to keep warm.

"We are home," Splinter called from the living room, and Mikey and Don rushed to greet them. "Please bring us some towels so we do not trail water all over the floor."

Don was quick to respond, and was back before Mikey could finish gathering their rainwear and hanging it in the usual place to dry. Soon Splinter, fur still damp, was in the bathroom with Leonardo and Raphael. They had just enough time to take a quick shower before dinner.

"I got dibs on the tub right after!" Raph said, disappointed that he had to eat before soaking his shivering self in the deep hot water.

"You always have dibs on the tub," Leo grumbled, making his way into his chair and waiting for dinner to be put on the table. For the moment, his plans to talk to Splinter were forgotten in the growling of his stomach.

The meal was for the most part silent, though Splinter had two shocks.

"You made carrots?" he said, surprised, as Mikey brought the bowl to the table.

"Yeah, well, I-- I opened the can by mistake," Mikey responded.

The others didn't notice. They liked cooked carrots.

What got their attention was when their baby brother, the notorious cooked carrot hater, spooned some of them onto his own plate!

Four sets of eyes stared in disbelief as the youngest turtle speared one of his vegetable enemies on the end of his fork and, with barely a suppressed shudder, quickly put it in his mouth, chewed three quick chews, and gulped it down, closely followed by a mouthful of milk.

He realized he was being watched. He stared back at his family, puzzled.

"What? Can't a guy decide to eat cooked carrots?"

"Of-- of course you can decide to-- eat what you wish, my son," Splinter, recovering from the sight. He turned his attention to his own plate, but watched from the corner of his eye as Michelangelo speared yet another carrot as if he were stabbing at someone attacking him, popping it into his mouth, chewing, swallowing, drinking milk, and trying not to look like he was going to throw up. In three minutes he had gotten them all down, and now turned his happy attention to the rest of the meal.

Splinter wisely kept from commenting when Raph offered Mikey the bowl again.

"Sure you don't want seconds? 'Cause you sure at those firsts in a hurry," Raph could not help but tease.

"Nope, I've had enough," Mikey politely responded, trying to keep from making a face--even the smell had never appealed to him.

"Aww, come on, Mikey! You ate 'em so fast you probably didn't even taste them," Raph kept it up, pushing the bowl right up to his brother's plate. Mikey pushed it right back.

"Believe me, I tasted them all right," he muttered.

"That is enough, Raphael," Splinter said, and the older turtle, smirking, went about eating his own meal.

Nothing more was said. After dinner, Don and Mikey did the dishes in silence while first Raph, then Leo had their baths and dressed for bed. Then Don, and finally Mikey were bathed and dressed in warm pajamas.

"Since you are being punished and the others are not, you will have to go to your room now, my son," Splinter said. "The others may watch some television."

"Hai, Sensei," Mikey said without complaint, and pausing long enough to grab Mr. Growly off the couch, he cheerfully went into his room and closed the door.

This was almost a bigger surprise to Splinter than the eating of the hated carrots! Michelangelo normally pleaded on his knees to be allowed to watch "just one show! Just one minute of one show!" whenever he was grounded off of the TV.

Shaking his head, he sat on the couch, absently moving his son's notebook and sketchpad as the other three ranged themselves on the floor in preparation for watching "The Tale of Zatoichi"-- one of Mikey's most favorite of all favorite Zatoichi films.

Not one protest came from the room! Splinter several times glanced quickly behind him as the movie played, thinking that he would catch his youngest sneaking into the room to watch from his usual hiding place (behind the couch), but nothing, nothing at all happened.

Splinter was at a loss, but a powerful yawn overtook him, reminding him how tired he was. He stretched a bone-popping stretch, and relaxed, putting all thoughts of his youngest son's strange behavior from his mind and just concentrating on the movie, laughing as his sons (who knew the film by heart) spoke the dialogue of the different characters, and cheered and offered helpful comments to the blind swordsman ("Behind you! Watch out!").

All too soon, the movie was over, and Splinter shooed his sleepy sons off to bed. Once everyone was tucked in, Splinter was able to take a long hot bath, washing away any remnants of the dirty runoff water that had escaped his earlier efforts to clean up.

In his room, he had just made himself comfortable, propped up in bed with a book, when a small sound came at his door.

"Enter."

Leonardo, hesitant, barely opened the door and slid into the room through the narrow crack, as if trying not to be seen by anyone other than his father. Then he stood there, not knowing how to start.

"Yes, my son? What is the matter?"

"Um... Father... what if you know something, and it's not something really bad, but it's something important, only not important like anyone might get hurt, but on the other hand they might get hurt, and you don't want to be a tattle tale, but you don't--"

"Is this about Michelangelo?"

Hesitation; then a forceful nod.

"Is it a secret that he asked you to keep?"

Determined shake of the head.

"Is this something that could wait until morning?"

"I don't know! That's the problem! Mikey is planning something because he thinks something is going to happen that isn't going to happen because it's impossible, and we keep telling him it's impossible, but he just---"

He couldn't go on. Something kept him from speaking. He couldn't figure out what it was, but something kept him from saying what he needed to say.

"Come here, my son," and Splinter gathered his son up to him in a hug. "I know that you do not wish to tattle on your brother. You know the difference between tattling just to get someone in trouble and telling something that will cause trouble. I want to know what is going on with your brother, but I do not want you to worry about telling me. If you think it is really important, then do not worry and simply tell me. But if you are this unsure, perhaps you need to think about it some more. You promise it is NOT something that will put your brother in danger?"

"Yes, I promise. It's just that he's going to-- well, feel dumb when it comes out, and I don't wanna see him get hurt-- as in feelings hurt."

Splinter nodded, then sighed.

"You are a good _Ani_," he said. "I suggest you sleep on it, and then we can speak in the morning. I know that you will make the right decision."

Leo, relieved, hugged his father and kissed him.

"Okay! Thanks, Father! 'Night, Father!"

"Good-night, my son," he returned, and watched Leonardo leave the room more quickly than he had entered.

Sighing, he closed the book and blew out his candles. He, too, would "sleep on it" and worry about things in the morning. For now, he was very tired. He hoped he was not catching cold from the trip in the sewer.


	7. Chapter 7

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This is long long long, and I hope it suits-- I'm happy with it, but then that's me! TMNT are not mine. They're Peter Laird's.

Splinter went to awaken his sons, but the smell of cooking food alerted him to the early rising of at least one of them.

__

What is going on? If he thinks he can escape punishment early by preparing breakfast...

"Good morning, my sons. Time to begin another day!" he said to the other three, and waited to the side of the door by force of habit for the usual stampede that was known as Michelangelo, on his way to be "First!" to the bathroom, followed closely by the others.

This morning, however, there was no rampaging son-- no triumphant shouts of "I'm first!"-- no fighting and tripping and "Gee, MIKEY! You're not the only one who has to go!" from the other three. Splinter knew before he opened the door that the youngest turtle was already in the kitchen. But he stood aside just the same.

Leonardo was up quickly, as usual. He began the race to the coveted bathroom, automatically shouting "Mikey, you're always--" before he realized that for once HE was first to the bathroom!

Instead of going in, he rushed back, scared, to his room, where Don and Raph were taking their time, figuring that it wasn't worth the extra energy.

"Mikey's not there!" he dramatically announced, as if someone had mysteriously appeared, snatched his brother, and vanished before his eyes!

"It is all right, my son," Splinter said. "He is already up-- and fixing breakfast."

Now three pairs of eyes were on father, puzzled. Mikey fixing breakfast was nothing new, but usually they knew it ahead of time due to their baby brother's loud and insistent announcement that he was "getting up early to fix the rest of you something to eat so just keep sleeping and don't worry about the fact that **I** have to get up so way earlier than you guys even though I'm tireder than you all and I hope I don't fall asleep and burn up the kitchen while I'm trying to fix breakfast for all the LUCKY turtles who get to sleep in late!"

In the kitchen, Michelangelo's preparations were complete! The party supplies were arranged-- he was going to treat this like a special birthday party-- and it was, in a way, it certainly was! He would surprise everyone with this fantastic breakfast, and then Splinter would HAVE to finally come clean with the coming baby, and Mikey would STILL be able to use his surprised reaction after all!

Eagerly he awaited the moment when his father and brothers would enter the kitchen and...

"Michelangelo, it was kind of you to--" Splinter began as he entered the kitchen. Then he lost the rest of what he was going to say as he took in the sight before him.

The entire kitchen seemed decorated for a party. There were two highly decorated signs of "Congratulations" and "Welcome to the Family" taped to the cupboard facing the door. Balloons were blown up and taped to whatever surface could hold them. The table was already set, and at each place was a homemade party hat and colorfully fringed noise makers known as "blow outs"-- the kind where the curled up and flat hollow "tube" extended when one blew into it while making an irritating noise-- were on everyone's plates.

In a bowl on the counter were their old baby socks, bulky with something that Splinter could only guess at. Next to the bowl were two highly decorated "gifts"-- leftover Christmas paper had been used to good effect it seemed.

"My son," Splinter finally found his voice, and looked at the obviously beaming face of Michelangelo, who was wearing one of the homemade party hats already. "My son-- what is going on?"

"It's a surprise!" Mikey grinned, grabbing Splinter's hand and pulling him to his seat. "C'mon! Sit down and put on your hat!"

"My son," Splinter tried again, as he was pulled along by the eager child. "What surprise are you referring to? It is not anyone's birthday today, and--"

"Mikey, what the heck?"

Leo's voice was loud with shock.

"PLEASE tell me this is NOT what I think it is!" He glared a strange look of embarrassment and horror at his brother.

"Sit down! Breakfast is getting cold!" Mikey ordered, ignoring Leo's reaction.

Donnie and Raph walked into the kitchen, and both rocked back a bit in surprise. Don looked as if he were seeing things-- and NOT liking it one bit. Raph appeared to be just as startled, but his face also reflected anger-- for a brief moment.

"Mikey, have you lost your HEY! I've ALWAYS wanted one of these!" and Raphael snatched up the noise maker and began to blow it at Leo and Don, hitting them several times in the face before anyone could react.

"Raphael! Please stop that!" Splinter said firmly, the noise already grating on his sensitive ears. Then he turned to Michelangelo. "What is all of this about?"

Mikey, barely containing himself, still refused to explain.

"I've made a special breakfast!" he announced, immediately beginning to serve it up from the oven where he had kept it so it would be warm. Soon each plate was heaped with blueberry pancakes, and each glass was filled with milk. Syrup, nice and hot, was set next to Splinter's plate, and a large bowl of fluffy scrambled eggs was proudly carried to the table by the young chef. "When I saw you had the can of blueberries I decided to see if I could make blueberry pancakes. The eggs came out great, just like in the picture! I think these are my best scrambled eggs yet! I would have put some ham in them, but we're out. I thought about the bacon, but I hate frying that, I hate getting popped with the hot grease, and 'sides you said to never fry it unless you're there to watch, and since this is a surprise breakfast party it wouldn't be much of a surprise if you had to help me fix it, right?"

Mikey, breathless, suddenly flashed a huge grin at his father,then snatched up the specially made hat and before Splinter could react, placed it on the startled rat's head and tied it in place.

"There! NOW you look like you should! Just like I pictured it!"

Splinter finally tore his stunned eyes from this young bundle of energy and took in his other sons' reactions. They were now seated, but would not return his questioning gaze. Leonardo was staring at his pancakes, swallowing down his obvious embarrassment. Donatello was equally occupied with studying the food on his plate, as if it were the most facinating thing he had ever come across. Raphael was quietly blowing into the party favor, trying to make it shoot out without making it squawk.

__

They knew what this was about-- and yet they could NOT tell?

He turned back to Michelangelo.

"What is this about?"

Mikey, still riding the emotional high of his dream come true, merely grinned even larger. Then he grabbed the gifts and presented them to Splinter.

"I was gonna wait until after breakfast, but maybe it's okay if you open them now!" he said, still not answering his father. "Open this one first! Open this one first!"

Automatically Splinter opened the smaller package.

"A baby rattle?"

He held up the large pink and blue toy, his mind not comprehending the situation.

"YES! I was lucky enough to get that at the donation place!" Mikey grinned, seating himself and beginning in on his pancakes and eggs-- after all, he had been up since before dawn, and he was starved from all this hard work! "That's why I was out of the lair that night, father. I gots more stuff in the room, but I'm saving it for when she gets here-- I mean--"

Splinter's eyes snapped back to Michelangelo.

"She? Who is 'she'? When who gets here? My son..."

"Well," Mikey acknowledged, mouth full of tasty food, "I'm only guessing 'she'." Chew chew swallow. "It could be a 'he', but I'd rather it was a 'she' cause of the other gift." More food found its way into the turtle's mouth, barely staying there because of the constant smiling and grinning. "Oops! Sorry!" He caught some escaping eggs quickly with a hand and shoveled them back in and dealing with them promptly.

Splinter opened the other gift at once-- and found the pink baby sweater, neat, cleaned and even repaired-- there had been a button missing, and now a new one, sadly mismatched but proudly sewn on, replaced it.

"I tried to wait until you was ready to tell us," Michelangelo's words reached his ears. "But I figured that maybe you were embarrassed to bring it up, and on the show I watched they gave the person a party so she would finally not be embarrassed and would tell them what they already knew."

"I do not understand," Splinter barely said. His mind was having a hard time trying to figure this one out. Of all the strange stunts Michelangelo had pulled over the years, of all the pranks this growing young jokester had tried out on all of them, this-- THIS did not seem to register with the rat. This one made no sense at all-- and yet the other three, silent, embarrassed, squirming-- they knew what it was about-- and wouldn't tell--

"Leonardo, what is going on?"

The tone was unmistakable. Leonardo, the eldest, jumped as if he'd been pinched on the tail, and gave his father an apologetic, weak grin.

"Ummmm... remember when I said that what if someone believed something and it was bad but not bad like--"

"What is going on?"

Mikey, afraid that his brother would steal his thunder, jumped up and rummaged in the cupboard. With a flourish, he brought to the table where the untouched (except by him) breakfast sat, pushed everything aside, and presented Splinter with the cake that Mrs. Sakai had made.

On it, Michelangelo had placed a small sign he had made-- he had drawn and cut out what appeared to be a baby rat wearing a diaper and holding a bottle, and then attached it to some cardboard. In carefully cut out letters that he, himself, had made, he had spelled out on top of the cake "Happy BABY!"

His grin was so large that it did not seem possible it could fit his face. He took the completely confused rat's hand and squeezed it, and just kept nodding and grinning at Splinter-- as if he'd lost his mind.

Something clicked in the rat's mind-- something unbelievable-- it just HAD to be a practical joke! It just had to be!

"My son-- do you think that--"

Michelangelo gripped Splinter's hand tighter. He was finally going to say it! He was finally going to tell them!

"YES! We're having a baby! I can't wait! OH, Father! I'm so happy!" Mikey shouted, and he leaped upon Splinter, hugging him and dancing around the chair then hugging him again and again and singing nonsense and carrying on about "Machi" and "baby sister" and "you can count on me!"

Splinter grabbed hold of Michelangelo firmly, forcing him to stand still and staring into his shining eyes. Long he stared into the depths of his son's soul, and with a heavy sigh realized that this was no joke-- that Michelangelo was serious.

"Mikey thinks you're having a baby."

Small, whispered, almost unheard by the rat, Leonardo's voice reached his ears none the less, confirming what had finally become clear to Splinter.

Mikey, still in Splinter's strong grip, maintained that silly smile of pure joy.

"My son," Splinter finally said, and the smile froze on Mikey's face. Something about the tone set off an alarm deep in the recesses of his euphoria. "My son, I believe we need to talk... in private... now..."

The grin would not leave his face, but the eyes now reflected a growing fear-- and the overwhelming desire to sing "The Wheels of the Bus Go Round and Round" began to creep up on him.

"My son, let us go to my room for a moment."

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Mikey sat on the edge of the large pipe, legs dangling into the empty space, just above the river, Mr. Growly snug in his lap. The sounds of the seagulls as they chased after what boats were moving to and fro this late in the day, the deep call of a tugboat horn to a larger ship that replied in kind, the faint lapping of the water along the shore all echoed inside the pipe and made mournful music for Mikey's grief. The orange and red streaks of a sunset angled in somehow, striping the turtle and what he held as neatly as if someone had painted it that way.

He stared at his foolish picture-- his labor of love-- and he crumpled it up to toss it into the empty space. With luck it would hit the river and quickly fade in the dark, cold deep, taking all traces of his stupidity with it.

A furry hand took the balled up paper from Mikey's hand just as he reared back to throw it. The Turtle did not look up as Splinter seated himself next to his son, but he could see the faded robe from the corner of his eye; he could feel the tail slip around him as if it would keep him from running away, and he could hear the unmistakable sound of paper being smoothed open.

"My son, this is a lovely drawing. Why do you cast it away? You have captured your own image so perfectly."

"I dunno," he mumbled, shrugging, now staring at the busy river and wishing it were high tide and the water level were closer to the pipe so he could fall in and get so sick that no one would remember his dumb plans...

After Splinter had spoken with him in private, Mikey had gone to his room, stunned and embarrassed-- and the others had been there-- and all it had taken was Leo's "We told you so" to cause him to snatch his bear and his drawing and bolt from the lair, running and running to all of his favorite hiding places. He had spent the better part of the day moving from one to the other, making sure that no one could find him, determined to live for the rest of his life with just Mr. Growly, hiding by day, foraging by night... man, he was hungry!

Yet Splinter had known exactly where he would eventually end up. This was his most favoritest of places to come when everything was so bad. This was the place where he always came when the weight of the world became too heavy for his little shoulders to bear. Here he could watch the world go by, and wish that he could go with it.

"I am sorry, my son. I thought you understood everything I told you that night," Splinter sighed, gazing at the image of a longed-for sister. She was quite good, for being from his imagination. She was definitely a rat, and yet one that could possibly have been a true mutated shape. Her ears were similar to Splinter's, but more soft, more delicate. Her face was a bit shorter, but her whiskers were long and graceful, and her eyes-- with shock, Splinter recognized that her eyes were the eyes of Michelangelo. They had that certain mischievous quality, that certain "feel" that Splinter knew so well.

He truly is a gifted artist. I wonder how I can...

What troubled him, however, was the obvious "love" in the expression of his son's face towards this figment of his imagination. When the others had finally filled in the gaps of Splinter's knowledge, he still had not grasped the depths to which Michelangelo had felt about this.

Yet now, looking at this picture, Splinter realized that his son had developed real and true feelings for someone who never existed and never would exist except in the disappointed heart of an eight-year-old.

"I guess... I guess I kinda did," Michelangelo finally replied, staring at his toes, clutching the always understanding Mr. Growly tightly. "I... 'member that night, and you said do I have any more questions, and I said I did but I didn't know what they were?" And he looked up at his father.

Splinter nodded, vaguely recalling something to that effect, though what had been uppermost in his mind was for his son to drop the subject altogether.

"Well, I guess the question I had musta been about the whole thing. I know what you told me, and I know what is in the books-- Leo and them made sure 'bout that!-- but it just... well, it just don't make sense I guess."

Splinter smiled and hugged his son.

"That means you were not truly ready to hear where babies come from," he said kindly. "You are still in the magical wonder of childhood. Let me see if I can clarify it for you, and I will not be too technical this time."

And Splinter spoke about love this time, not mating. He spoke about emotions rather than instincts, and above all he spoke about the heart, not the mechanics.

"The mommy is the one to carry the baby inside her body," Splinter said, as Michelangelo leaned up against his father and listened as if hearing a wonderful fairy tale. "The daddy helps, but it is the mommy who does this miraculous thing. You've seen the ducks at the pond, when we've snuck out to the park. And remember that injured mother cat we found that time? You were all four or five I think. Before we could make sure her owners found her, she gave birth in our bathroom-- remember?"

Mikey sat up, startled. HOW had he forgotten that? Raph had thrown up when the first kitten came squeezing out in that little sack thing! Even Don had had to leave the room, he was so upset! Leo had stayed, but only 'cause he was trying to prove he was better 'en Raph-- but only Mikey had watched with a grin on his face, only Mikey had marveled as the mother cat cleaned each squirming, blind, wet baby until it made a noise and somehow made its way closer to her body.

HOW had he forgotten that?

Then he heaved a final sigh.

"So you can't have a baby?"

"No. And for a better reason than because I am a male rat," he said. "Because there is no female who is mutated as I am. I cannot become a father that way."

Mikey nodded. He finally understood-- well, not completely, but more than he had that first night. There were still many questions he had, but he sensed that now was not the time. He knew that Splinter wasn't ready for them yet.

"I'm sorry I caused all this trouble," he said, hugging his father.

"I am sorry as well, my son. You would have made a very good _ani_," Splinter comforted him. "But remember, you do have three brothers-- and a father who loves you. I hope you can be content with us."

"Oh, yes! I am content! I swear it! Well... it would be kinda cool if one of them was a sister... Raph maybe! Then he wouldn't be so cranky all the time! Raphaela... Sounds pretty."

"I would not mention that to your brother," Splinter said, as they both stood up to return home.

"Okay," Mikey took Splinter's hand even though he was eight. Who cared what the others thought? This was his father! If you can't hold your father's hand when you're a big boy, then what kind of world was it?

They made their slow way home through the dimly lit tunnels of the sewers, the soft sound of their voices mingling with the sounds of running water, dripping pipes, and the occasional muffled noises of the surface world filtering down from above to join the strange "symphony".

"Of course, Machi is a much prettier name. I wonder if Raph would change it..."

"Michelangelo..."

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"Shaaaadoooooow! Let me see them pretty toofies!"

Young Shadow, sitting on Mikey's knee, immediately opened her mouth wide in a grin that exposed all three of her new teeth, gurgling and squealing as her uncle chucked her under her chin with one huge green finger, eliciting an even larger grin and louder laugh.

"There them is! OOOh, who has the kootest toofies in the world? Oooh, look at them toofies!"

"Hey, Mikey," Casey called from under the hood of April's van. "Don't talk no baby talk to her! Talk normal."

Mikey looked at Casey, puzzled.

"What's wrong with baby talk? She's a baby! Aren't you a baby?" he asked her, voice switching back to that tone that many reserved for the very young. "Yes you are a baby! Baby Shadow, the kootest widdle baby in the world wif the kootest widdle toofies of all the babies!"

Squeeeeealgigglegigglesqueeeeeal!

Casey stood up straight, and leveled a screwdriver at the turtle sitting on the porch swing baby-sitting.

"Look! I wanner ta speak normal, like me! Ya gotta talk to 'em like a grown-up, not like a baby, else howse she gonna learn ta talk good?"

"He is right, my son," Splinter, seated next to Michelangelo on the swing, supported Casey even as he prevented the Turtle from making any sarcastic remarks. "We must speak normally to her."

Casey nodded in gratitude, then returned to his impossible task of once again trying to fix April's van. Splinter waited until his head was once again buried in the maze of motor parts, then turned his attention to his "granddaughter".

"I agree with your _oji_," he said her, as she offered up a huge grin to her furry grandfather. "You have very cute 'toofies'." And he smiled as she once again squealed at the sound of the word.

Mikey had a hard time holding her. She had begun squirming and struggling, wanting to go to Splinter, but Mikey knew that his leg was still healing from being broken. Splinter, however, took her and held her in the crook of his arm rather than setting her on his lap. She was getting so big and heavy!

She rewarded "Sofu" by immediately making a grab for one of his fascinating ears, eyes fixed upon it as if it were the only thing in the world. Splinter had to call upon skills he had developed so very long ago, when they had been the main grabbing goal of four infant mutated turtles.

"It's funny, Sensei," Mikey said, watching the skill of the Rat time and again defeat the questing of the little baby. "She makes me think of Machi."

Splinter, eyes on Shadow's determined face, sighed in agreement.

"I was thinking the same as I watched you both just now," he said. "You certainly were convinced in her actually coming. I began to fear afterwards that you would never reconcile yourself to the impossibility of it."

Mikey nodded.

"Yeah. For a year I kept hoping, you know. I'd wish upon stars even when I wasn't allowed topside. I'd wish on every wishbone that came my way, on every lucky penny tossed into the sewers-- no wishing wells back home, eh Sensei?-- I even tried praying for it after watching that movie about the girls at the Catholic school. After a year I finally put her away in my mind."

He gazed out in the distance, as if seeing himself and his "baby sister" once again.

"But it's odd, once in a while, when I was feeling low or when I was alone because of a fight with Raph or grounded to my room-- I'd think about her, and spend time with her again. I even did right after Shredder's ninja nearly killed Leo. Right before he woke up that first time-- I was sitting by him-- and you all were asleep or out of the room-- and I suddenly thought of her sitting on my lap, saying 'it's all right Mikeyanjo'-- I even remembered that was how I always imagined she would say my name! And then, as quickly as she had appeared, she vanished-- and Leo woke up. DO you think you can 'create' ghosts?"

Splinter smiled.

"You created something very real, my son, but not a 'ghost'. Your imagination is very powerful, but not that powerful. You created something that was basically an extension of yourself, something that could be loved by someone who had much love to give. I do not know how to explain it any better than that. You created something that was part Michelangelo. Her eyes-- in the drawing, you will not remember, but her eyes were yours. Why you did this, I do not know, but I do know that you are a loving child." He sighed, thinking of all his family in the past and the present. So many changes. "I am glad that it is one aspect of childhood that you have never outgrown."

The baby squealed in frustration. She was not getting what she wanted, and it was making her cranky. As if on cue, April appeared from nowhere and with a "who needs a baba and a s'eepy bye time?" "April, don't talk baby talk...", the infant was whisked away by the determined redhead, being followed by the father who insisted on everyone "talkin' good English 'round my daughter"

"I do believe this even more," Splinter continued, placing a fatherly hand on his son's knee. "With young Shadow, you may have gotten your prayer answered. Who would have thought all those years ago we would be with such friends-- much less have the opportunity to share in the life of one so young?"

"Yeah-- maybe she's not my little sister, but I did get one-- with April," he agreed. "I'm not _ani_, but I can be _oji_-- and it feels good."

Splinter smiled, and hugged this one son who even now never refused such displays, no matter who might catch view of them.

"You are right, my son. _ Oji_ Michelangelo and _Sofu_ Splinter. We have truly been blessed."


End file.
